


Take Two

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Resistance (Cartoon)
Genre: Extra Treat, F/M, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29370429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Jarek's just been reassigned, and decides to press his luck.
Relationships: Hera Syndulla/Jarek Yeager
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Take Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucymonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts).



It's so late that it's practically early. Jarek's squadron came back from their last run together with everyone still alive, which is reason enough to celebrate. Some of the other pilots started the party without them, digging up a dozen bottles of whatever Lo and Payce have been brewing in secret, or not so secret. Jarek's mouth is going numb despite the tiny glass he was given.

"You all right, Yeager?" asks Midlin, clasping his arm with a friendly grin.

"Never better," Jarek replies, coughing. Midlin laughs.

Jarek doesn't mind the laughter and he appreciates the tiny shot of liquid courage. His squadron is getting broken up and reassigned. That means he's not going to see Midlin or Lo again for a while, or maybe ever.

It also means the most gorgeous woman in the Rebellion is no longer his C.O.

The General must be reading his mind. She comes into the rec room, waving down anybody who stops partying and tries to salute. It's one of the things he likes about her. Say what you want about Syndulla and her commitment to the cause, she's always ready to be a friendly ear and shoulder for her pilots even when she's sending them off to near certain doom. She's brave, and kind, and when she gives someone an encouraging smile, they feel like they can take on the Empire single-handed. 

Is it any wonder he's carried a torch for her for the past three months? He knows he's not alone, but he's got an advantage. Jarek is good-looking and he knows it. A charming glance, a carefree laugh, and those good looks have earned him plenty of kisses over the course of his time in the rebellion. Sometimes more than a kiss.

She's walking over to him. Jarek swallows the last of his drink. He's not sure what Lo and Payce fermented to make this, and a friendly brain cell in the process of shutting down for the night hopes it won't make him go blind. "General," he says with a smooth grin. "Glad you could join us."

"Private Yeager," she says pleasantly. A few other cells that have little to do with his brain sit up and take notice. "I wanted to pay a visit and thank all of you for everything you've done here. Quasar Squadron is one of the finest groups of pilots I've ever had the privilege of serving with." Jarek swells with pride, and so does everyone else in the room.

It takes him about twenty minutes to find the right break in the conversation to match the right break in the crowd. Syndulla rests against one wall, a small glass of her own in hand. Jarek didn't miss the face she made when she tasted it, and he's noticed she hasn't tasted it again, but it makes perfect camouflage.

"Terrible stuff," he says to her in an agreeable tone, nodding at her glass.

"It is. I've tried the local brews in almost every squadron where I've served, and I'm always amazed what some people can get to ferment." She sniffs her glass. "My guess is this one started as someone's boot. Or in."

"Might be both."

"It might."

It's a good conversation, he thinks. He's smiling, she's smiling. "Our orders have come through."

"What's your next posting?"

"Home One," says Jarek proudly. Syndulla gives him a nod. The best pilots get a rotation protecting Mon Mothma's ship. "So you're not my C.O. any longer."

"If you're thinking about punching me, Private Yeager, you should remember that I'm older and meaner than you, and I fight dirty." There's a laugh in her voice as she says the words.

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am. I was wondering, though." He's been practicing this for a couple of hours. "Has anyone ever told you that you're the most gorgeous woman in the galaxy?"

Syndulla stares at him for one moment, then her face relaxes into what he will understand later is a careful mask. "You mean this week, or are you asking how many times I've heard it today?"

"I mean," he says, but the mask has already turned into a gentle amusement he can read even through the fumes in his brain. He doesn't follow through, and he's glad about that when he sobers up in the morning. She probably has heard that line dozens of times.

Syndulla rests a kind hand on his arm. "You're a sweet kid, Yeager, and one hell of a pilot. Go sleep it off."

"I'm serious," he says, but any chance he had is already past. In the morning amid a hangover that will have him swearing off alcohol for years to come, he'll admit to himself he didn't have much of a chance in the first place.

She shakes her head at him, but not in a cruel way. "Talk to me when you're older."

"How much older?" he asks, but she's already sauntering away towards a small knot of pilots to talk to and congratulate.

By the time he sees her again, it's a year later. He's too embarrassed to bring up his idiotic pass at her, or even to say hello after she briefs her pilots on the upcoming mission. Either she doesn't remember, or just as likely, she doesn't think it's appropriate to mention. He takes her orders and flies his ship, and he gets transferred again, and they somehow continue to stay alive all the way to the end of the war. During the final party, Jarek feels about twenty years older than when he signed up, staring at the pilots who signed up more recently as though they're children.

He meets Eliana three months after Jakku, and the best thing is, she makes him feel young all over again.

* * *

Staying alive has become a habit. Yeager has spent the last several years of his life keeping his head down on the Colossus, healing his own heart by mending the broken things brought his way. He's still wondering if Poe wanted him to fix Kaz when he lobbed him into Yeager's orbit, or if his old friend thought Kaz might help fix up Yeager's old wounds.

As they return together to Ajan Kloss, alive after yet another battle that should end all battles, he hopes he'll have a chance to ask Poe, or should he say, General Dameron.

Strange old galaxy, to have spun back around to the same things: the Emperor, the retired Rebel bases he still sees in his bad dreams, and voices over the comms he hasn't heard in decades, shouting positions and leading attacks.

There's a very familiar old VCX-100 parked among the other ships as Yeager lands next to Torra. She's out of her ship like a shot, ready to hug everyone, Yeager and Kaz included. She sees the look on his face, and says, "Yeager? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Neither of the kids understands why he chuckles.

"Go say hi to your mother," he tells her. Venisa made it through the battle, as did most of her pilots.

It doesn't take much effort to find the pilots who've been brewing for the Resistance. A glass in his hand makes him invisible to the other party-goers while they celebrate being alive after Exegol. Children, he thinks, but not unkindly.

He hasn't been looking for her, not really, but he has been scanning the crowd for faces he knows, and Syndulla's is still easy on the eyes. Yeager may have gone gray but Twi'leks never do. He watches her gaze pass over him absently, then focus back on him. "Jarek Yeager?"

"You'll pardon me if I don't salute," he says, tipping a hello to her with his glass.

"I'll allow it," she says with an indulgent smile. "What's it been, fifteen years?"

"Twenty. It's good to see you."

"Likewise." She makes her way closer to him so as not to shout over the noise of the impromptu party. Across the way, people are hugging, or kissing, or smacking each other on the backs. "I thought I heard you over the comms." She nods at his ship. "Yours?"

"Mine."

"That was some impressive flying out there today." She almost sounds like she did back when she was still teaching him and a dozen other young pilots how not to die in a dogfight. The old light humor is in her eyes as she adds, "I wasn't as impressed with the lightning."

"No, that was new." He offers her the glass. Syndulla takes a sniff and makes a face. "It's terrible stuff."

"It always is." She takes the glass from him and tries a sip. "Same boots, too. I was hoping Leia would add some fruit to her people's supplies. That makes a nicer brandy." There's a soft, reflective expression on her face as she says the General's name.

"I'm sorry. She was your friend, wasn't she?"

"She was everyone's friend." Syndulla sips the terrible drink and hands it back. "All yours."

He gives it a stare, decides better of it, and sets the glass down on the exhaust fin of a ship. They watch the crowd together for a while, not speaking. They both lived through enough battles back in the Rebellion to understand half the high spirits are one last night's denial of the price this victory cost in lives, and one last pretense that this was the last battle and there will be no more wars.

"I remember being that young," he says, watching Kaz and Torra join a happy pocket of Resistance pilots as they whoop and dance.

She says, "I don't."

"Pity. You look their age."

She snorts a laugh. "Your lines have improved."

He gives her a nervous stare, realizing she hasn't forgotten, not after all this time. "General…."

"Hera. We've known each other for over thirty years."

It doesn't feel like thirty years. It feels like he's still some green pilot with a few good tricks and a slightly embarrassing crush on the woman who gave him his orders. "I guess that proves one thing."

"That being?"

"I'm older now." He gives her a grin, and to his delight, she returns the smile. Guess I do still have the charm, he thinks to himself. He holds out an arm. "Hera, would you like to join me for a stroll? The planet's lovely, and I could do with getting away from the party."

For a moment, he's sure she's going to turn him down. She's uninterested. She's married. She's tired and wants to get back to her own ship. She's thinking over one thousand good reasons to turn him down.

Hera takes his arm. "I'd love to."


End file.
